


No Matter How Fast

by MauveCat



Series: A Year in the Life [11]
Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F, Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27192355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MauveCat/pseuds/MauveCat
Summary: Estela and Taylor feel like they're finally settled into their new home and their new life. Let's see how that goes for them.
Relationships: Estela Montoya/Main Character (Endless Summer)
Series: A Year in the Life [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885183
Comments: 5
Kudos: 2





	No Matter How Fast

**AUGUST**

“Hey, Taylor!” Diego’s beaming face appeared on the screen of Taylor’s laptop. “You look pretty domestic over there. How’s the knitting going?”

Laughing, Taylor made herself more comfortable on the couch. Holding up her latest project, she said, “I think I’ve finally got the hang of it. And since the last time we talked, Estela and I finished decorating the balcony. I think for our next project we’re going to –”

“ _Reggie_?”

Taylor heard running feet, and then a little green face popped up at the bottom of the screen. She held back a smile when the Vaanti child’s face shifted in a flash from anticipation to disappointment. “Hello, Xiraana. I’m afraid Reggie isn’t with me.”

“It is... okay?” Xiraana glanced up uncertainly at Diego.

“Yep. That’s the right word,” Diego said as he boosted the little girl onto his lap. “You’ll be talking to Reggie tomorrow. You can say ‘hi’ to Taylor anyway, though. Right?”

“ _Haalta,_ Taylor,” Xiraana said in a slightly distracted voice. She leaned forward to stare at the screen curiously. “You play with sticks?”

Taylor looked down at the hat she was making. “It’s fun, but it’s not really playing. I use these long needles and this special string called ‘yarn,’ and I can make things with it. See?” Lifting her knitting so it was closer to the webcam, she made a few stitches. Xiraana nodded solemnly as she watched Taylor’s fingers. “When it’s finished, it’ll be a hat for Reggie. Would you like a hat too? I can make one for you,” she added when she saw the girl’s bright golden eyes light up. Pulling her knitting basket closer to her, she began lifting out balls of yarn and holding them up. “It could be red like Reggie’s. I also have some blue yarn, and I have white, and I have purple –”

“That.”

“Purple, huh? Purple is one of my favorite colors so I think that’s a very good choice. I’ll give it to you –” Taylor broke off when Diego shook his head and distinctly mouthed, _she doesn’t know_. “I’ll give it to you the next time I see you.”

“I thank.” Xiraana whispered something in Diego’s ear, and he whispered back. Turning back to the computer, Xiraana shouted, “Goodbye!” Without waiting for an answer, she slid off Diego’s lap and disappeared. 

Grinning, Diego said, “Okay, she’s busy with her blocks so we can talk for a while without any more interruptions. No offense, but she said we were boring.”

“Well, I’m probably nowhere near as interesting as Reggie. I take it they’re still having their weekly virtual playdates?”

“Oh, definitely. Mauri has to keep his phone up on a shelf now because she figured out how to turn it on; he and Paravet woke up in the middle of the night and she was trying to figure out how to talk to Reggie. And Xiraana makes sure that all the other kids in Elyys’tel understand that Reggie is _her_ best friend so when he’s here next month, she might need a little encouragement to let anyone else play with him.”

Taylor nodded. Aleister and Estela were finally able to begin Rourke International’s reforestation project in the Amazon basin, and they were going to Brazil to sign the final agreements. While they were there, Taylor planned to accompany Grace and Reggie on a quick side trip to La Huerta. “I’ll have the hat done by then, easy. Don’t tell her, but she’s getting a pompom on it too. I’m glad she wanted the purple yarn – it’s cotton so it’ll be a little bit cooler than the wool I’m using for Reggie’s. She’s what, about four?”

“Not quite, but close. Don’t worry about making it too big, she’ll probably wear it as long as possible. But now _you_ get to tell Grace that she can’t bring a present – the rule is, Xiraana only gets one gift per visit.”

“Oh, you’re making me be the bad guy?” Taylor laughed. “Fine, I’ll take the heat on this one. So Xiraana is hanging out with you today?”

“Yep. Mauri and Paravet wanted a day to themselves, and Varyyn’s trying to settle a fishing dispute between two sisters. Their family’s always fished northwest of Sharktooth Island, but these two just can’t get along and they both want an official ruling from the elyyshar saying who gets what territory. I think this the third time he’s tried to get them to agree on… well, _anything_. He’s just about ready to toss them both overboard and let a school of klaawyi take care of the problem. I'm expecting a call from my editor later today, and the only other thing I have going on is waiting for my cousin Hugo to send me some financial documents to e-sign and get back to him.”

Frowning, Taylor thought back. “Hugo? Isn’t he the one who...?”

“The one from the ‘fork in the light socket’ incident? Yeah.” Diego shrugged. “I was eight, he was ten. We got over that a while back. He’s actually a decent guy – he’s a CPA so I asked him to manage the accounts I set up for my folks, as long as he promised he won’t tell them where the money is coming from. He lives about ten minutes away from them and....” Diego’s eyes flickered for a moment. “Well, I was an only child but Hugo was the second kid of five and he always felt a little ignored at his house. He finally admitted to me that he was always jealous of me because of my dad. They both like cars, they’re both into sports, and I suppose Hugo’s basically the son my dad always wanted,” he finished with a little laugh. “I’ve known for a while that I’d need to ask a family member to look after my parents someday, and Hugo was the natural choice.”

“I’m sorry, Diego,” Taylor said softly. “How rough is it?”

“Extremely.” Diego thought for a moment, and then he began drawing circles in the air. “Here are my relatives who think I’m a horrible person for not talking to my parents. And here are my relatives who understand why I’m not talking to them, and they’re only surprised that it didn’t happen sooner. In between we have the ones who never liked the way my folks treated me, but they still think I should put up with it to keep the peace. And this circle over here – well, it’s a huge messy Venn diagram and I’ve had to block a few people. Let’s just say that I won’t be going to any of the family reunions anytime soon. On the bright side, in a generation or two the family will have a whole new missing person to talk about.”

“What are you talking about?”

Diego laughed. “One of Abuelita’s aunts – or was it a great-aunt? – vanished...oh, I guess about a hundred years ago now, maybe more. The way I heard the story, when she was about fifteen she left a note one morning saying that she wanted a better life and she’d write home once she’d made it big. Only her family never heard from her again, so other than a few people naming their daughters after her, she became a family legend. I think I told you once that my mom’s family has a few blondes here and there, like my Aunt Araceli? Well, she was one of them. All of the older _tias_ and _tios_ have their own stories about where she might have ended up, and most of them are pretty depressing. Personally, I want to believe she had her happy ending. I think she pulled a Rita Hayworth, in fact. She probably left California for the East Coast, changed her name, and didn’t tell anyone there she was Mexican. Who knows?” His smile widened, and he lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Maybe I’m not the first person in my family to run away from home and snag myself a king.”

“Nah.” Taylor matched his grin. “I think you’re one of a kind.”

* * *

“Ah, here you are, _mi vida._ I was –” Estela stopped in the kitchen doorway. “Are you making shortbread _again_?”

“I sure am,” Taylor said absently as she scribbled a quick note on a pad of paper. “I asked Quinn what the best recipe was for learning how to bake, and she sent me a shortbread recipe.”

Walking into the kitchen, Estela looked at the wire rack full of cooling cookies. “This must be your tenth batch.” She set the mail down on the table.

“Twelfth. I think I almost have it figured out.”

Estela stared at her. “But I thought you said that you got memories of how to bake from Quinn. Don’t you already know what you’re doing?”

“Right up to the point where I stop and _think_ about what I’m doing,” Taylor said. She straightened up and picked up a cookie; turning it over, she looked at its underside. “Just after we moved in... do you remember that day I said I’d bake a cake but I never did?”

Thinking back, Estela nodded slowly. “Yes, but I suppose I thought you’d just gotten busy doing something else.”

“Oh, no.” Taylor shook her head. “The cake was job one, and I was doing great. I creamed the butter and sugar, I added the eggs, I picked up the bowl with the dry ingredients to mix in... and I realized that I wasn’t thinking about any of it. I was working entirely on autopilot and I didn’t have any idea _why_ I was doing things in a particular order. Why didn’t I put the flour in first? Why didn’t I mix the sugar and eggs together? I got so wrapped up in wondering about everything that before I knew it, the batter had been sitting out so long that I had to pour it down the sink.” Sighing, she sank down into a chair. “It’s like that with so many things. I have all this knowledge in here –” She tapped the side of her head. “But I usually don’t know _why_ something works. It’s all autopilot.”

Estela pulled out the chair next to Taylor and sat down. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, babe.” Popping the cookie into her mouth, Taylor smiled. Once she’d swallowed, she said, “I know the stakes are pretty low – the important thing is that I _do_ know how to do all kinds of things. But I felt so good when I taught myself to knit! I decided that I wanted to take just one skill and figure it out from one end to the other, and I chose baking. I asked Quinn what recipe she’d recommend to someone who didn’t know anything about baking. She suggested shortbread because you can fancy it up, but the base recipe only needs three ingredients and a few simple steps. So I made it once without thinking about it, and it turned out great. After that, though, I started paying attention to things like... oh, how soft the butter was, or what happened if I mixed the ingredients too long, or not long enough, or playing with the temperature it’s baked at. I think I’m finally getting a feel for why the process works the way it does.”

“I suppose that makes sense. Is that why you had Michelle send you those medical books?”

Taylor, looking down at her notepad, didn’t answer at first. Finally, she said, “Yeah, something like that.”

Estela took a cookie of her own. “Well, whether it’s an easy recipe or not, I’m not about to complain about the results. And speaking of skills, there’s something for you in today’s mail.”

“It finally came?” Standing up, Taylor shuffled through the mail. “It finally came!” she exclaimed as she ripped open an envelope and triumphantly held up a small piece of plastic. “Look at this! I’m official!”

“You certainly are.” Estela got up to put her arms around Taylor’s waist. “And why am I not surprised that you’re the only person I’ve ever met who actually looks beautiful in a driver’s license photo?”

Taylor looked happily at the license in her hands. “Oh, so the truth comes out – you married me for my looks. I’m a trophy wife, aren’t I?”

Kissing the back of Taylor’s neck, Estela chuckled. “You’re far more than that, Taylor Olivia Jardin-Montoya.” As she released her wife and walked over to the refrigerator, she asked, “So besides baking, what did you do today?”

“I talked to Diego for a while – it sounds like he’s doing pretty well – and just before you walked in, I got an email from Quinn. She sent us a link to the photos from her last fundraiser. I thought we could look at them together this evening. And this morning, Nicolas’s friend Padre Mateo called me. Apparently, your uncle has been bragging about what we’re doing with our place and Mateo asked if I’d be interested in helping with a project he's starting. There are a lot of houses in his parish that need some fixing up, and he seems to think I might be able to help. I might take him up on that offer – the group has a meeting next week, so I think I’ll at least check it out.”

Estela came back to the table with a glass of water. “I think that’s a wonderful idea! And now that you’ve got that shiny new license, you can drive yourself back and forth. We should probably look into getting a second car.” She made a face. “And on a less pleasant note, IRIS found another report of some of the Malatesta coins turning up in a pawnshop.”

“Again?” Taylor looked up from sliding her license into her wallet, next to the blood test card that she kept as a good luck charm. “Where did they find them?”

“Philadelphia, this time.” Estela sighed. “And just like the first ones they found in New York, they were brought in by a woman with a fake ID. Her fingerprints aren’t in any police database, and she wore an obvious wig again. But this time the pawnbroker got suspicious and pressed the seller on where she got the coins – according to him, she panicked and ran out, but she left the coins behind this time.”

Taylor sat down again. “I don’t suppose IRIS had any luck tracking her down this time either?”

“No. She’s gone into every security system she could find within ten blocks that has a working camera and each time, the woman either dumped her disguise somewhere along the way or she disappeared into the crowd. I’m not sure whether IRIS or Zahra is more frustrated at not being able to track her down.”

“Well, if the coins are popping up in New York and Philadelphia, that means that our treasure thief isn’t in Boston, at least. Raj travels so much that he’s hardly ever in New York so I don’t think it’s likely that anyone is watching him there, and... what is it?” Taylor frowned at Estela’s troubled expression.

Estela shook her head unhappily. “Zahra says that she’d feel better if some of the treasure _did_ turn up in Boston. She’s still convinced that Lundgren is behind it all and based on what Mike and Jake told her about him, Zahra says there’s no way he’d be stupid enough to unload stolen goods where he lives. New York and Philadelphia are both within a day’s drive of Boston, so if that’s where he is, they’d be obvious places to try to pawn something.”

“Zahra really thinks Lundgren is in Boston?” Taylor stared at Estela in shock. “But... then who’s pawning the coins? I sure don’t think Lundgren could pass for a woman, no matter what kind of wig he wore.”

“He probably –” Estela looked down at her buzzing phone. Raising her eyebrows, she answered the call. “We were just talking about you, Zahra. Did you – no, not yet. Taylor and I both got her email but we haven’t had time to... what?” She turned to Taylor. “Is your laptop handy?”

With a growing sense of unease, Taylor said, “It’s in the living room. I’m pretty sure I left it on after I talked to Diego.” Like Estela, she was already getting to her feet.

As they walked into the living room, Estela switched her phone to speaker. “Yes, we’re heading in there now.”

“Great,” Zahra answered tersely. “Don’t bother clicking on the link Quinn sent out – I’ll open up the picture I want you to look at. Damn it, I should have known she wasn’t ready to give up.”

“Who are you talking about?” Taylor asked. She and Estela sat down just in time to watch the laptop wake up.

Rather then answering, Zahra cursed under her breath. “Okay, here it is. I’m zooming in... I know you’ve never seen her, Tay, but Estela knows what she looks like.”

“Zahra, what in the world... _mierda._ ”

“That’s fucking right,” Zahra ground out.

Frowning, Taylor looked at the picture. Quinn was in the foreground, beaming as she shook the hand of an elderly woman. Then Quinn was gone as Zahra enlarged a section of the image that showed the people behind her. The cursor began circling a thin, dark-haired woman standing near the edge of the crowd.

“Is there any way you can enhance her face?” Estela asked. “I know it looks like her, but we need to be sure.”

“This isn’t a TV show,” Zahra snapped. “You can’t just hit a key and get a perfectly focused face. I already did as much as I can. This is as good as it’s gonna get.”

Taylor laid a hand on Estela’s arm. “Is one of you going to tell me what this is about?”

Closing her eyes for a moment, Estela turned to Taylor. “I think that’s Christina Langenfelt. The woman who’s been stalking us for six years.”

Over the phone, Taylor heard Zahra kick something. “I should have fucking _known._ But I’m a fucking idiot and I stopped watching her for a while. She stopped her mail a week ago, she emptied her bank accounts and maxed out all her credit cards with cash advances – IRIS is checking all the Boston traffic cameras to see if we can find her car anywhere, but we both think she’s long gone.” There was a soft thump, and Taylor imagined Zahra sitting down heavily. “Langenfelt is in the wind. And I’ll bet my life that she’s working with Lundgren. She’s probably that mystery woman who’s been pawning the coins. Fuck, I _knew_ I should have –”

Taylor leaned toward the phone and said sharply, “Zahra. Take a deep breath, okay? Is Craig with you?”

“No, he’s working late tonight. Shit, I need to call him, make sure he’s okay!”

“We’ll take care of that.” Picking her phone up from the coffee table, Taylor gave it to Estela and mouthed, _text Craig._ “Whatever is going on, you’re not responsible for any of it. And it’s amazing that you even spotted that tiny face in the picture. If this woman _is_ up to something, you’re the only reason we’re aware of it. Okay?”

Zahra sighed heavily. “Maybe, but –”

“No maybes,” Taylor interrupted firmly. “If she really left Boston, that gives us some breathing room. I think you’re right – she’s probably the one who pawned the coins and that means she’s working with Lundgren. But Estela told me that she panicked and ran out of the pawnshop, so she’s clearly not a hardened criminal. If she screwed up once, she’ll screw up again, and that’ll help us track her down. Okay?” There was a long, tense silence. Finally, Zahra grunted something that sounded like agreement. “Okay. Tell me what you and IRIS are doing right now, besides looking for Langenfelt’s car.”

“Monitoring Rourke’s prison, for one thing,” Zahra replied immediately. “It’s in southwest New York, not far from the Pennsylvania border. Me and IRIS already monitor the traffic going in and out, but we’re amping up our coverage... maybe we can install some spy cameras along the interstate and as many county roads as possible.”

“Good.” Holding Taylor’s phone, Estela gave her a thumbs up. After a quick glance at the screen, Taylor said, “We just reached Craig and he’s fine. He says he’s on his way home now, and he’s watching his back. What’s our next step?”

“Stepping up our personal security.” Zahra was starting to sound a little calmer. “I think you’re right – some of the heat is off all of us in Boston. I think Al and Grace are probably okay in London, but IRIS said she was gonna bump up their security too. We gotta warn Jake and Mike – I’ll get on that as soon as we’re done here – and Diego’s got a whole damn army watching over him, plus IRIS is still monitoring all the satellites covering La Huerta. Raj is God knows where this week and Sean is gearing up for the Condors’ opening game, so I’ll text them both and tell them to call me. Are you two keeping your security systems on?”

“All day and all night,” Estela said. “Tio Nicolas is the only person besides us who has the code, and he never uses it. He just rings the bell or pounds on the door.”

“Sounds like him. Okay. I’m gonna get on it – I’ll let Quinn and Meech know what’s going on. I’ll be in touch. And Tay?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” Zahra disconnected the call.

Estela and Taylor stared at each other for a few heartbeats before Estela said, “Well, at least you haven’t lost your talent for pep talks.”

Laughing weakly, Taylor leaned against her wife. “Be honest. How much danger do you think we’re in?”

Estela thought for a moment. “As Raj would say, there’s a non-zero chance that we’re in immediate danger, but I don’t think we need to head for a bunker yet. If Lundgren is depending on Langenfelt to sell the treasure, rather than someone who knows what they’re doing, he’s probably operating with limited resources at this point. According to what we know of Langenfelt’s finances, she has access to some money but not an endless fortune. But if she’s involved with Lundgren, then that definitely means that they’re going to try to get in touch with my father at some point – I can’t think of anything else that would motivate someone like her to work with someone like Lundgren. Aleister and I will contact the prison officials and tell them... well, I’m not sure what we’ll tell them. But my brother can be very smooth when he wants to be and I’m sure he can convince them to increase their security.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Sitting up a little straighter, Taylor turned off her laptop. “Well, all we can do now is watch our backs. And no matter what Lundgren is up to, I’ll be damned if we live in fear because of him. I didn’t cross a universe to hide under my bed.”

Nodding, Estela took Taylor’s hand in hers. “Me either. Why don’t you give Diego a call and let him know what’s going on? And after I talk to Aleister, I’ll start supper. What do you feel like?”

“Surprise me,” Taylor said with a smile. When Estela had walked away, she picked up her phone and held it. She hadn’t been lying when she said she didn’t intend to hide under her bed. She’d already defied all the laws of probability to rejoin her family, and she wasn’t about to let Lundgren and Rourke control any of their lives.

Not in this universe, or in any other.

_Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it._

_Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man_

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter will wrap up this series, and it'll be kind of long.


End file.
